Person of Interest. Debby Giusti

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Person of Interest - Debby Giusti Mills & Boon Love Inspired Suspense

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his CID identification. “Could I have your name, sir?”

      “Lieutenant Bobby Slade.” He pointed over his shoulder to the duplex where Everett had seen the light come on earlier. “I live in 325-B. Something bad must have happened.”

      “Did you notice anything unusual this evening?”

      The guy raked his hand over his short hair and let out a stiff breath. “Unusual.” He thought for a long moment. “No, not really. I noticed a different car parked in the alleyway behind the Yateses’ quarters earlier. Probably a friend.”

      “Can you remember the make and model of car?”

      He shook his head. “’Fraid not. I didn’t know it would be important. Did someone get hurt?”

      “Mrs. Yates fell.”

      “Oh, man, I’m sorry. If there’s anything my wife or I can do...”

      “Why don’t you go back inside, sir. Someone from the military police will want to talk to you later about that car.”

      “You mean, the fall wasn’t accidental?”

      “We’ll contact you, sir.”

      The guy nodded and hurried back to his quarters. An inquisitive neighbor who saw a car in the area. Not much, but Everett made note of the information on his tablet. Sometimes the smallest detail could have bearing on a case.

      He raised his cell and called Frank, who answered on the second ring.

      “Yeah, Rett. What’s up?”

      “We’ve got an inquisitive neighbor across the street. Lieutenant Bobby Slade. Quarters 325-B. The guy saw a car parked behind the Yateses’ home today. You might want the MPs to question him when they do their door-to-door.”

      “Is that the reason you called?”

      “Negative. I talked to the nanny. Interesting development that I don’t want Mason to overhear.”

      “Where are you?”

      “On the sidewalk outside.”

      Frank chuckled. “Not to worry. Mason’s in the latrine, and I’m in the kitchen out of earshot. What’d you find out?”

      “Natalie Frazier is prior service. You’ll never guess her last duty station.”

      “Vilseck, Germany,” Frank said. “She worked as a personnel specialist in the CID office.”

      “Mason told you?”

      “That’s right. He said she was a loner, kind of aloof.”

      Which is exactly how Everett would describe Mason.

      “He’s grieving, having a hard time putting his thoughts together,” Frank continued. “Seeing Ms. Frazier was a complete surprise. Mason didn’t know she was in the area.”

      Everett glanced at the sky. Dark clouds rolled past the moon, blocking its light. “Strange coincidence that she’d show up on post the night Tammy Yates dies.”

      “You think she’s involved?”

      He sighed. At this point, he didn’t know what to think. “Just wondering how this investigation will play out.”

      “Do you still plan to go on leave in the morning?”

      “I’ll stick around and give you a hand.”

      “Appreciate the help.”

      “You stood by me,” Everett said, remembering Frank being there when he’d needed a friend. “I’ll always be grateful.”

      “Don’t blame yourself.”

      “I should have kept the investigation open, Frank.”

      “You were following orders.”

      “That doesn’t help me sleep at night.”

      Everett disconnected and glanced again at Quarters 324-A. Maybe he was being overly cautious, but he would keep his eye on the attractive nanny. Natalie could be an innocent bystander, or she could play an important role in a murder investigation.

       THREE

      Natalie peered through the window and watched first the ambulance and then one of the two patrol cars pull away from the curb and head out of the housing area. Her head throbbed with tension that had escalated since she’d first awakened on the couch. What would she do if Mason remained behind after the crime-scene team left?

      As if in response to her concern, he stepped from his quarters and approached the SUV parked in front of the house. Special Agent Everett Kohl walked next to him and opened the passenger door and shut it with a slam once Mason had climbed inside.

      Rounding the front of the vehicle, Special Agent Kohl glanced at the duplex. He hesitated for a long moment, and then as she watched, he walked briskly up the sidewalk and climbed the stairs to the Joneses’ front porch. She opened the door before he knocked.

      “Do you have more questions?” Natalie asked.

      “I wanted to let you know Special Agent Yates will be staying at the Lodge on post for the next few days. The military police will question the other neighbors either later tonight or in the morning. We’ll follow up on each bit of evidence and information until we get to the truth.”

      She appreciated his thoughtfulness. “Thank you for letting me know.”

      “You have my card. Don’t hesitate to contact me if you remember anything else.” He paused for a long moment and stared at her through pensive eyes. “You shouldn’t have any problems, but if you feel threatened, just call.”

      Natalie reached for his business card that she’d placed on the side table by the door and glanced again at his name and the accompanying phone numbers, unwilling to let him see the confusion she felt. She’d been on her own for so long, taking care of herself, that she didn’t know how to respond. His concern for her well-being touched her, but she couldn’t let down her guard, even if Special Agent Kohl seemed sincere.

      Shoving his card into the pocket of her jeans, she willed her expression to remain neutral. “I’ll call if there’s a problem.”

      He nodded, seemingly satisfied with her response, and returned to his SUV.

      Climbing behind the wheel, he started the engine and then stared again at the doorway where she still stood. Mason glanced up from the passenger seat. She couldn’t make out his expression, but she sensed hostility in his gaze. Unwilling to let either man destroy her fragile composure, she closed the door before the car drove away.

      A military post was a tight-knit community. News of Mrs. Yates’s death would quickly spread. Natalie didn’t want Wanda Jones to hear about the tragedy from someone else.

      Reaching

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